Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ A Bump in the Road ❯ Not in Kansas Anymore ( Chapter 5 )

Bump in the Road: Chapter Five

 

A/N: This chapter took a little longer than others -- sorry! RL intervened, as it tends to do sometimes. Anyway, great thanks to Aoi for being a fabu beta reader, despite her zany schedule. XD

 

Chapter Five: Not in Kansas Anymore

 

I am not what I am.

 

~Othello I i

 

 

Faint pink light filtered through the window, pricking at Shigure's closed eyes. As the annoyance tugged him from slumber, the Sohma found that his mind was somewhat clearer this morning. His body, however, suffered from this newfound clarity. The discomfort he'd felt the night before had been bothersome, but significantly muted by... whatever the hell the vet had stuck him with. But now, now his ribs were aching beyond anything he could have ever conceived. How on earth had Kyou tolerated such an injury -- not once, but twice? His wrist was tender and throbbing painfully, and his head was positively killing him. The Dog felt like he'd had a run-in with the wrong end of a cement mixer.

 

Ah, yes. There's nothing like pain to remind you that you're still alive -- and that it's no fun being a speed-bump.

 

Prying his eyes open, Shigure lay on his side, his head resting on one of the pillows; the sheets smelled fresh and crisp, and for a moment he was reminded of home. Tohru-kun always managed to keep things so... nice.

 

Hm. Tohru-kun. She's probably worried by now. That is, if she's had time to get worried, mediating between Yuki-kun and Kyou-kun. God knows that's a full-time job.

 

But still, the girl had a big heart, putting others before herself. She was probably quite worried. The knowledge brought him a twinge of guilt; he blew out a soft sigh and rolled over gingerly, noticing for the first time that a bandage was wrapped around his torso, binding his ribs. It was uncomfortable, but whether that discomfort came from the bandages or the ribs themselves, he wasn't sure.

 

His -- hmm... what was she, exactly? Caregiver? Benefactress? Well, whatever she was, and whoever -- her name still eluded him -- she was still quite asleep. The woman was sprawled on her stomach; her head was turned away from him, dark hair spilling across the pillow while at the same time sticking up in places. Shigure lifted his head slightly and squinted at the clock.

 

Ugh. Still far too early to get excited about anything. He burrowed back against the bedding with a soft, sleepy mutter.

 

Just as slumber had started to wind its gossamer strands around the drowsing canine, a loud, brash buzzing shattered the cozy silence of the bedroom. Shigure started suddenly, jerked awake, and was immediately reminded of why he shouldn't make any sudden movements. Clenching his jaws shut against a litany of invectives, he closed his eyes tightly and waited for the wave of pain to subside.

 

Thwack!

 

The bedroom was plunged into silence once more, although Shigure was of the opinion that she hadn't hit the clock nearly hard enough.

 

A low groan came from his side, and he forced his eyes open, looking up blearily, his ears flicking once. The woman was sitting up slowly, pushing the covers back before swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and standing. Boxer shorts were slung low on her hips, and the strap of her tank top had slipped off one shoulder. With barely a grunt and hardly any acknowledgment at all to anything around her, she trudged into what appeared to Shigure's unfocused eyes to be an adjoining bathroom.

 

The dog closed his eyes again, intent upon recapturing his lost doze, although that seemed to be less and less likely as his injuries began complaining more heartily. He lay very still; he could hear her thumping around in the next room -- water splashed in the sink, and there was the sound of teeth being brushed. As he listened, concentrating on something other than the painful throbbing radiating throughout his entire body, he felt himself slide gradually into the twilight between wakefulness and slumber.

 

But when the soft rustle of clothing hitting the floor met Shigure's sensitive ears, his eyes flickered open in time to see a pair of bare breasts before they were shamefully covered up by a gray sports bra. Discomfort momentarily forgotten, the canine's eyes widened and his tail gave a light, reflexive thud against the bed.

 

Many, many things occurred to the Sohma at that moment, starting with the boxer shorts sliding down her legs, left in a puddle on the floor ---

 

Oh, to be those shorts...

 

--- and ending with the realization that this had the potential to be an interesting convalescence.

 

A pair of running shorts slid up her legs.

 

A very interesting convalescence indeed.

 

She fished a pair of short, white athletic socks out of a drawer and rooted around in her closet before coming out with a pair of sneakers dangling from her fingers. Rolling her shoulders, she headed for the door, pausing only long enough to glance at him over her shoulder.

 

"I'll be right back. No wild parties, okay?" And she was gone.

 

When Shigure heard the front door close, he eased himself off the bed and peered out the bedroom window, which offered a spectacularly unhelpful view of the back yard.

 

"Ow, ow, ow, dammit..." he muttered, limping -- and wincing with each step -- out of the bedroom and into the sitting room. He found a window looking out over the front walk, but there was no one to be seen. Shigure muttered another mild oath. She was probably going running - Shigure couldn't imagine what else she would have been planning to do, dressed in such a way. It occurred to him that this was an excellent opportunity to find a phone and call the house - or, better yet, Ha-san.

 

The dog glanced again at the front window and frowned. Perhaps it was wiser to wait until she left for work before he tried finding a telephone. There was a cell phone around somewhere - she'd been on it the night before - but even if he found it, there was the small problem of figuring out how to open it, much less dial. Yes, waiting to call sounded like the best idea.

 

...Actually, going back to bed sounded like the best idea.

 

Moving very carefully, he crawled back onto the bed and lay on his uninjured side. His wrist -- paw -- ached with this position and, with a groan, Shigure shifted again, settling on his stomach. He let his eyes drift shut for a moment; once his hostess left for work, he'd find a phone and call the house to let Tohru-kun, Yuki-kun, and Kyou-kun know he was all right. There was, of course, the small matter of dialing the phone, but how hard could it be? Cracking open one eye, he looked at his paws and let out a soft whine.

 

Still, paws aside, it was worth a try. Then either they would come and "claim" him, or Ha-san would, bringing him home to recuperate in his own bed. It wasn't that his mystery benefactress' bed was uncomfortable, but Shigure was experiencing a fair amount of trepidation about his pending transformation. It would come eventually, once he had recovered a bit more. He was in pain and weak, and already starting to wish that vet friend of hers would come around and dole out another shot. Transformation wasn't an immediate worry, but it was still causing him a fair bit of anxiety.

 

It was while he was entertaining these thoughts that Shigure fell into a light doze again. He heard the front door open and close, and mentally registered that the woman had returned. When she came into the room, she smelled of crisp air and sweat. Shigure cracked an eye open long enough to see her pull the tie from her hair, letting it fall in damp clumps that didn't quite reach her shoulders. But when she pulled off the sports bra, darkened with perspiration, the other eye opened. She'd soon shed the shorts as well and had scooped all of her clothes up into her arms, depositing the entire bundle into a laundry basket. Pulling a dark robe from a nearby hook, she disappeared into the adjoining bathroom once more.

 

When the shower started running, he uttered a content sigh. Speaking from a strictly visual perspective, it was certainly enough to take his mind off of his discomfort, albeit temporarily. Like they say, he thought, carpe eyeful.

 

Shigure inhaled deeply and caught a hint of the scented steam coming through the open bathroom door.

 

The dog lifted his head and blinked. Her bathroom door was open? Open?

 

The door was open. Wide open. From his spot on the bed, Shigure could make out her figure moving behind the frosted shower door.

 

Well, this is certainly different.

 

At that moment, the Dog would have liked nothing better than to get out of bed and move from one room to the next and take a closer look (a much closer look) at his hostess, but he'd already ventured out of bed once that morning, and the very idea of leaving the comfortable nest of sheets and blankets sounded too painful to consider.

 

Then the door slid open, and Shigure's vision was filled with a naked woman, rubbing a towel across her skin and squeezing water from her hair.

 

You know, it could be worse. It could be a lot worse.

 

Shigure watched, rapt, as she dropped forward at the waist, wrapping the towel around her head, winding her hair in it; when the angle became less than favorable, he wiggled around slightly until he could see her fully. He watched her move, his eyes growing heavy, and when she shrugged into the robe, belting it tightly at her waist, he let his eyes close.

 

After a few moments, Shigure drifted into a light doze as his benefactress pattered around in her bathroom. Where was she going? Work, probably, which meant that it was... Thursday? No, not Thursday. Yesterday was Thursday. Friday, then.

 

He'd already been gone a whole day. Shigure felt faintly ill at this realization; doubtless Tohru had already started to worry. He closed his eyes, cringing. Tohru-kun. Yes, she was probably already sick with worry.

 

He had to get home.

 

Soft footfalls and a light breeze made Shigure open his eyes again. His hostess was standing in front of an open closet, surveying its contents with all the concentration of a chess-master contemplating his final move. Several outfits came out, which she regarded seriously before tossing a skirt and sweater on the foot of the bed. Shigure observed her, resting his head on a tangled lump of blankets. She then walked to a tall dresser and pulled open the topmost drawer, selecting several scraps of silken material and dropping them on top of the outfit. Shigure blew out a sigh. Why this always seems to take women so long I'll never kno---

 

The robe fell from her shoulders and was draped over the open drawer. Shigure blinked, lifting his head as she began dressing. It occurred to him that after sharing a meal and by this point having seen her completely naked several times in one morning, it wasn't too presumptuous to start calling her by her given name. Granted, he still had no earthly idea what her given name was. But, since she had named him, there was nothing stopping him from returning the favor.

 

As long as I'm going to be watching you in these situations, I suppose I should call you something. He pondered for a moment. I could name you after the last person who got naked with-- oh, wait. No, no, I shouldn't call you Ayame. That would be far too -- oh my god, are those thongs?

 

He shook himself slightly, dragging his attention back to the point and away from the scrap of satin clinging to the curve of her hip.

 

A name. Right.

 

He watched her -- the tip of her tongue peeking out past her lips as she dressed, her fingers combing carelessly through her hair, smoothing out errant strands -- trying to divine what her name possibly could have been. Of course, when she dropped to her hands and knees in search of her shoes, he couldn't help but appreciate the way her skirt tightened across her backside, and his attention was therefore somewhat distracted. He straightened up a bit and looked down at her, tilting his head in consideration, and when she arched her back, reaching further into the depths of her closet, Shigure shook his head. She really should think twice before getting into a position like that. Honestly.

 

She stood suddenly, running a hand through her hair and blowing the stray strands out of her face. "Found 'em!" she cried, holding a pair of heels aloft, a victorious smile curving her mouth.

 

Yes. Very nice. Perhaps you wouldn't mind looking for something else now? Something very hard to find and in the furthermost reaches of your closet? He looked up at the petite woman, and then at the closet to emphasize his point. Much to Shigure's chagrin, the hint didn't take. Instead, she reached over, rubbing his neck.

 

"Hungry, Kuroi?"

 

Shigure sent her his most winsome look. Actually, watching you look for your shoes worked up quite an appetite.

 

"Well, come on, then." She turned and strode from the room, shoes dangling from her fingertips. Shigure sighed and followed slowly.

 

When he reached the kitchen, he saw her standing at the stove. He shot a glance at the clock on the wall and looked again at his temporary caretaker. "I hope warmed over table scraps are all right." She looked over her shoulder at him. "I did a little research and... did you know that eggs are good for dogs?" Shrugging, she turned her attention back to the stove. "I never knew that. Liver, too. And fish."

 

Yes, yes, all of those sound quite delicious. Maybe not the liver and fish at the same time, of course, but really, I think you need to go back and search for something in your closet. Or under your bed - surely there's something you need for work that you keep under your bed...

 

He watched her intently, noting her somewhat anxious glances in the clock's direction. After a few more moments, she set a large, wide dish on the floor. It held some of the beef strips from the night before, a sliced boiled egg, and broiled liver, which was mixed in with some rice.

 

"It's a lot, I know. But you're on your own today. Hopefully, it'll hold you." She refilled the dish of water and placed it next to the food before standing back and looking down at him thoughtfully. "I'm keeping the back door open for you, so use it -- please. Mrs. Sato -- she's the crabby, elderly woman next door -- knows I'm keeping the door open, so don't mind her if you see anyone peering over the fence. She's probably just keeping an eye out for... I don't know. Robbers, maybe. Aliens. Possibly pirates. Hard to tell. But she's harmless."

 

Dropping another quick pat against the side of his neck, she strode out of the kitchen. Shigure followed out of curiosity, watching as she slipped into her heels and shrugged into a coat before shouldering a heavy satchel. Her hand was on the door when she stopped and looked at him once more. "Go on -- eat up. I'll be back later." A faint, slightly lopsided grin quirked her lips for a moment before she opened the door and stepped out into the bright, cold morning.

 

The door closed and the small house was plunged into silence. Shigure sighed and turned back to the tiny kitchen. Breakfast first, then telephone. Settling down in front of his dish, he sighed, nosing the food around for a moment before digging in. Once he finished his breakfast, he'd set about to letting someone know where he was -- and, furthermore, that he was all right.

 

Shigure was yawning before he finished his meal. A heavy, comfortable fuzziness had settled itself in his brain, adding a soft, blurred edge to things around him. It occurred to Shigure that perhaps he'd be in a better mind to locate and dial a phone after a tiny nap. Limping carefully, he found his way back to the bedroom, where he crawled up onto the bed and settled on his side. Drowsy warmth wrapped around the Dog, and he closed his eyes. The sharp edge that had been with him almost since he'd woken up began to abate slightly, and he sighed in relief.

 

Shigure had just slid into a comfortable doze when a clatter came from the front of the house, rousing him. His mind muddled, he lifted his head and blinked in an effort to clear his vision. Hurried footsteps thudded through the house, and just as a low, instinctive growl made its way through his throat, his benefactress ran into the bedroom, frazzled.

 

"Dammit, dammit, dammit," she breathed. "Where is it? Dammit!"

 

His gaze followed her as she tore through the bedroom, increasingly flustered. In the midst of her mad search, she cast a glance down at her watch and groaned pitifully. "Where is it?"

 

She strode to her side of the bed and dropped to her knees. Suddenly interested, Shigure inched his way across the mattress, looking down at her. After a moment, she straightened, holding the coveted item in her hand: the tiny cell phone she'd been using the night before.

 

Shigure's gaze traveled upwards as she stood and smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt. She was flustered and out of breath -- she must have run all the way back. A tiny snort passed through his nose as he resisted the urge to shake his head. My rescuer, ladies and gentlemen. But even as the thought chased through his mind, Shigure caught himself fighting a smile. I suppose these are progressive times, after all -- princesses rescuing princes from certain doom.

 

And then she stopped, shooting him a rueful grin. "I know. I'm hopeless." Reaching down, she delivered a gentle scratch behind the ears. "Sorry if I woke you, big guy. Get a little rest now." And then she was gone again.

 

Shigure resituated himself on the bed, letting his eyes close as he once again gave in to the drowsiness that had infused his limbs. He rested his head against her pillow, inhaling deeply. A trace of mint met his nose, and it struck Shigure that the scent was not unlike the steam that had filled the bathroom. He found it oddly comforting. "I'll certainly do my best, hime-chan."

 

XxXxX

 

The February morning dawned bright and cold; winter's lingering touch made puffs of steam drift past his lips as he exhaled. Hatori leaned against the open door, staring unseeingly at the rock garden, a lit cigarette smoldering between his fingers. Yuki's early morning call echoed through his mind; he could still hear the young man's voice, rough with fatigue, telling Hatori precisely that which he did not want to hear.

 

Shigure hadn't returned.

 

He'd told Yuki not to worry too much yet. He'd told them to go to school, and that he'd make a few phone calls to see if he could figure out where the wayward Dog had gone.

 

Hatori didn't want them to worry, despite the fact that he'd started already.

 

There were limits to Shigure's behavior. Certainly, the Dog could behave frivolously -- Hatori knew that better than most -- but still, this was incredibly unlike him. He avoided unwanted company, yes, but did not disappear without a trace. If he snuck off to avoid a deadline, he usually dragged either Hatori or Ayame along with him (occasionally both). It wasn't unlike him to leave; it was unlike him to leave without warning.

 

And even if he was given to taking off without an explanation, Hatori was quite certain Shigure would not have done such a thing to Honda-kun.

 

And this was why Hatori promised himself -- as he strode into his office and picked up the telephone -- that if Shigure had done such a thing, and had spent the entire evening at Ayame's without letting anyone know, he and that damned Dog were going to have words. He tapped out the sequence of familiar digits and closed his eyes as the muted electronic trilling hummed in his ear.

 

When Ayame's voice came over the line, the sheer volume of it made Hatori pull the phone away from his ear as he lowered himself into the chair. "Moshi Moshiii~!"

 

At least he's awake, he thought, wincing. A slumbering Ayame was nearly impossible to rouse, particularly during the winter months. "Ayame, I--"

 

But his friend was in very high spirits this morning; Hatori could hear the light clinking of china on the other end of the line, and he could almost see Ayame kneeling gracefully at the low table in his parlor, setting down a delicate, hand-painted teacup on a matching saucer. "Ahh! 'Tori-san! My heart sings to hear the voice of one so dear to me so early in the sparkling light of day--"

 

"--Ayame," he broke in again. There was a soft, inquiring sound as Ayame took a sip of what Hatori was quite certain was jasmine tea. "I need to speak with Shigure."

 

"''Gure-san?" the Snake replied, confusion evident in his voice. After a moment, he laughed heartily. "'Tori-san, are you getting old? If you're looking for 'Gure-san, you should call the right number!"

 

Hatori's frown was immediate. Ayame's puzzlement was too genuine, his surprise too sincere. "You mean he isn't... with you?"

 

"No, no -- 'Gure-san and I are meeting for lunch tomorrow!" Again, Ayame laughed delightedly. "Ah... I can see how you might have become confused. I am unable to stop myself from counting the hours, even minutes, until we can be together again--"

 

Processing this information, the Dragon felt a faint, nauseating twinge in his stomach. He's not there. "Ayame," he interrupted tersely, "--this is very important. Do you know if Shigure has any deadlines approaching?"

 

"Hmm..." Ayame murmured, growing thoughtful. There was a light, quick tapping -- a spoon against the teacup, most likely. "Deadlines, deadlines.... No, no, I don't think so. 'Gure-san assured me he was ahead of schedule. We were going to lunch to celebrate his latest masterpiece, which he was certain he'd be done with well before tomorrow. After that, he's not due to begin another for a month while he relaxes. Although I'm quite certain he's started on it already -- you know how our brilliant, wily 'Gure-san loves to stay ahead of Mit-chan!"

 

"Damn it," Hatori muttered, raking a hand through his bangs. "Ayame, I spoke with Yuki last night and--"

 

"Yuki?" The Snake's voice doubled in volume and raised half an octave. "You spoke with Yuki? How is he? Did he speak of me? Were there words of admiration and love spilling from his lips when he heard of the concern I hold inside for his--"

 

Usually, Hatori was able to maintain his patience with Ayame. He understood that his friend was easily excitable, particularly in matters concerning Yuki. But it was growing increasingly difficult to maintain that hold on his patience. "--Ayame. Shigure's missing."

 

The silence on the other end of the line was vast. Hatori's words had come more abruptly -- snappishly -- than he had wanted, but with each revelation, Hatori had felt the dread pool in his stomach, chilling him. Shigure wasn't with Ayame. Ayame hadn't seen Shigure. Shigure had no known deadlines. Shigure's frivolousness was not, as many were wont to believe, boundless. He did not disappear in order to bring attention onto himself. That simply wasn't his way. No, going to Ayame's and staying until all hours of the night, drinking tea and reminiscing on their youth, opening a bottle of sake, perhaps -- that was Shigure's way. Hatori had fully expected Ayame to hand the phone to Shigure, who would laugh merrily when Hatori told him the children were worried about him.

 

"Worried about me?" he would have said, sniffling dramatically and dabbing at his eyes. "I'm so touched!"

 

But... Shigure wasn't with Ayame. Shigure didn't seem to be anywhere.

 

Damn it!

 

"...Missing?" Ayame echoed softly. There was a beat of silence before he laughed again, loudly. "How ridiculous! I must have misheard something, 'Tori-san... perhaps the connection of the phone is failing. And there are cars and--"

 

"No, Ayame," the Dragon broke in gently. "Shigure's missing. He transformed at the market yesterday, and when Yuki, Kyou, and Honda-kun returned to the house, he wasn't there. He hasn't returned. I thought for certain that he was with you."

 

There was more silence on the line, and Hatori winced at it. Ayame let out a short, ragged, breath before inhaling sharply. "... Shigure is--?" More static-filled silence followed and Hatori closed his eyes as he listened to Ayame struggle with the news. "I-I... Who is at 'Gure-san's home, Hatori? He might have called -- he could be calling now!" Panic resonated in Ayame's voice, and it took on a raw edge, completely unlike the typically smooth baritone. "Has he called you? Did I miss a message on my phone--"

 

Again, Hatori interrupted, silently cursing the fact that he hadn't gone to Ayame's in person to find Shigure. But then, he'd been so sure that the Dog would be there. "Ayame, listen to me," he said calmly, reassuringly. "Yuki, Kyou, and Honda-kun are there now -- they'll be leaving for school shortly. He hasn't phoned them, and he hasn't called me. As far as we know, he hasn't called anyone. But, Ayame, please -- please try and stay calm. Please try."

 

"Hatori, how can I be calm? Where could he have gone? If -- if he has transformed, any number of terrible fates could have befallen him! What if he's hurt? What if he's been found by authorities? Or--"

 

"If he'd been arrested, he would have called," the Dragon pointed out, calmly.

 

"No, no!" Ayame exclaimed. "If he transformed--" The words broke off suddenly and again, the doctor winced in sympathy. "Have you called the pound? What if he's been taken to an animal shelter? They might do inappropriate things--"

 

Hatori rested an elbow on the desk, propping his head in his hand, his palm cool against his forehead. "I'm sure they'll start looking for him as soon as possible. They wouldn't want Honda-kun to worry needlessly. She knows he's missing, but they're trying to keep her from... assuming the worst." But, as the young woman was given to worrying about the welfare of those close to her, it was Hatori's opinion that nothing either Yuki or Kyou could do that would circumvent that. Privately, the doctor believed they themselves were more worried than they were letting on, but were determined to put on a brave face for Honda-kun.

 

There was a brief pause, and when Ayame spoke again, his voice was strained and soft.

"Did you find anything? A note? A message? Where have you looked for him? Could he have been in an accident? He could be hurt, Hatori!"

 

Sighing hard, the Dragon leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. "I haven't been out looking for him yet, Ayame. Until now I believed him to be with you. I understand the boys looked for him last night, but with limited light, that was probably difficult. They're going to keep searching today -- the property around the house, animal shelters, veterinary clinics--" Perhaps taking the boys out of school for the day would be best -- or at least Yuki. Kyou's injury wouldn't get the better of him if he didn't overexert himself, but it was better not to encourage the Cat to run all over the city and exacerbate his condition.

 

"But what if he comes home? Someone needs to be there in case Shigure tries to call!"

 

"I agree." He thought for a moment. "I would go myself; however, Akito... is not well." Yuki and Kyou would most likely kill him for this, but considering the circumstances, it was necessary. "I need you to go to Shigure's house and stay there while the children are at school -- in case he calls or in case he returns. Can you do that?"

 

"'Tori-san, how could you suspect that I would leave my beloved younger brother alone in such a time of need?" Ayame's voice took on a shade of its usual bombastic confidence, but to Hatori's ear, sounded somewhat hollow. "Besides... 'Gure-san would never forgive me if I allowed his little flower to be left unprotected in such a delicate time. Despite my undying trust for my little brother--"

 

Again, Hatori found it necessary to interrupt. "--Ayame. Yuki and Kyou both are under a great deal of stress. They will likely be... less than receptive -- or patient -- right now. Please tread carefully."

 

"I would never think to add to my beloved brother's trials and difficulties. I wish only to rise to the challenge as any older brother is expected to do and assist in relieving as much of his stress and someone of my considerable skill and perfection is able to do!"

 

Hatori closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against them. That's exactly what I'm afraid of, he thought tiredly. Of course, he had to give Ayame credit -- he was doing an admirable job of maintaining his composure, such as it was. "Just mind the house until I can get there."

 

"I'll go immediately! Miine can watch the store without my presence; finding 'Gure-san safe and in one piece is far more important that giving in to my creative soul."

 

The words brought a tiny smile to Hatori's lips. "Good. As soon as I can get away, I'll be there." The Dragon fell silent for a moment or two, and when Ayame didn't fill that silence, he blew out a tiny sigh. "I'm certain we'll find him, Ayame." And if this turns out to be an elaborate prank, that damned Dog is in for a great deal of discomfort.

 

Ayame laughed then, but under its brightness the laughter sounded brittle and forced, the edge of desperation clear to Hatori's ears. "Oh, don't say such silly things, 'Tori-san! I am certain 'Gure-san is merely visiting a friend or out on a date, or he has simply forgotten to tell us of a vacation! Ah! My heart is breaking to know I am not a special enough person to have known he had an important matter to address!"

 

Hatori bowed his head slightly as he leaned over the desk, shoulders hunched. "I'll see you later, then."

 

Once again, the Snake's voice rang through the line, still heavy with the strain of false cheerfulness. "I'll be waiting at 'Gure-san's house for you, 'Tori-san. I'm certain Tohru-kun will be delighted if you and Mayu-kun join us for dinner!"

 

Hatori did not comment. At the moment, it seemed a better idea to cancel his lunch plans with Mayuko than it did to invite her to Shigure's house for dinner. "Good bye, Ayame." As he was lowering the phone back into the cradle, Ayame's voice caught his ear, and he lifted the receiver again.

 

"'Tori-san..." There was a long pause, and Hatori could hear the strain, the serious edge, and the hope all mingled in his friend's voice. "Please... call if you have any news."

 

"I will, Ayame. I promise."

 

 

 

It was several hours before Shigure roused again, and when he did, he felt the familiar fuzziness that came with a long nap and painkillers. Lifting his head, he blinked slowly, and once again had to remind himself where he was. He shifted on the bed, nosing a pillow out of the way until he could see the clock on her nightstand. It was just a little after eleven, which gave Shigure plenty of time to become familiar with the house while looking for a telephone.

 

He shifted a little on the bed, and the world swayed slightly.

 

Good thing I have plenty of time. I'm going to need it.

 

It took the better part of twenty minutes for Shigure to wake up enough to coordinate his limbs in such a way that would aid him in getting off the bed. Before too much longer, he was standing nearly solid on three feet, favoring his sprained paw, and tottering his way through the small house. The layout was simple: the front door opened to a sitting room with a couch and small television. The kitchen was adjacent to the living room, and there was a short hallway that led to a small study, a washroom, and two bedrooms, one of which seemed to be used for storage.

 

Unfortunately, there didn't appear to be a phone in sight, which was undoubtedly strange. Panting slightly, Shigure lowered himself down on his haunches and sat in the hallway, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. He was exhausted, and only growing more so by the moment. The painkillers were starting to wear off, made evident by the insistent throbbing inside his skull, and that told Shigure it was past time to reclaim his spot on the bed.

 

He'd find a phone later.

 

At the moment, it was far more important to find hime-chan's bed again. He settled against the bedding with a low groan, trying not to move more than was necessary. The Dog wouldn't have thought he'd be able to fall asleep in the midst of such discomfort, but exhaustion soon overpowered him, and before long Shigure was sound asleep once more.

 

XxXxX

 

Tohru was finding it hard to concentrate.

 

She was trying, of course -- she always tried, but sometimes it was more difficult than others. Sometimes, like if she worked late on a school night, or if Yuki-kun and Kyou-kun were fighting more than usual (though that didn't happen as often now as it used to), she had a remarkably difficult time paying attention to her lessons. And that was no way to repay Yuki-kun for spending so much time tutoring her through some of her hardest classes, and she was so glad when her grades started to reflect all of that extra help....

 

But right now, her difficulty had nothing to do with work, or Kyou-kun, or Yuki-kun. Right now, Tohru was thinking a great deal about Shigure-san. Both Yuki-kun and Kyou-kun didn't want her to worry -- Kyou especially didn't want her to get sick, and Tohru didn't want to come down with a fever either (she didn't want to be a burden to anyone, especially at a time like this), but as hard as she tried not to worry about Shigure-san, her mind seemed incapable of thinking about anything else.

 

He had to be all right. He just had to be.

 

Nodding once, Tohru took a deep breath and refocused her attention on her history lesson. Shigure-san will be all right. He's too clever to be missing for long! And this mollified Tohru's errant thoughts for a few moments, but then, out of nowhere, a memory surfaced in her mind. She could almost see Hatori-san as he stood in his office, warning her away from Shigure-san's house, only because he was concerned for her well-being.

 

He'd warned her about the curse. That it hung over the Sohma family, affecting everyone in it and associated with it.

 

What if Shigure was seriously hurt? What if this was the sort of thing Hatori-san had warned her about?

 

And there, in the middle of history class, Tohru held her breath and closed her eyes, sending up a fervent wish for Shigure-san's safety.